


What Not to Wear

by skargasm



Series: Keeping Up with the Hales [8]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire (Teen Wolf), Fanart, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:27:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29273226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skargasm/pseuds/skargasm
Summary: Stiles goes to Jackson for fashion advice
Relationships: Stiles Stilinski & Jackson Whittemore
Series: Keeping Up with the Hales [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2135901
Comments: 7
Kudos: 73





	What Not to Wear

**Author's Note:**

> Banner was created by Winterlynne_Norvic and she is kindly allowing me to use it.

“I need your help!” Jackson stepped back from the door, watching as Stilinski barrelled into his living room without removing his filthy converse or his ratty-looking hoody.

“Hi Jackson – how lovely to see you – how have you been keeping?” 

“What? Are you talking to yourself in the third person again? I told you way back in third grade how weird that was!” Stiles replied, throwing himself onto the leather couch with a sigh.

“No – I was demonstrating for you the proper etiquette upon seeing someone. You know – saying hello – saying how nice it is to see them – asking how they’ve been keeping?”

“Why would I do all of that shit with you? We’re practically brothers – it would be weird if I showed an interest,” Stiles replied before grabbing his messenger bag and rummaging through it. With a heavy sigh, Jackson slammed the door shut and headed into the kitchen, grabbing a couple of bottles of root beer. If Stiles was on one of his manic insanity trips, there was no way Jackson was feeding it with alcohol.

“Here – now, what do you want? I thought I was seeing you at Lydia’s do?”

“That’s why I’m here,” Stiles said, turning and slamming a magazine down onto the couch. Jackson picked it up and slid onto the couch next to Stiles. 

“Why are you showing me my old magazine cover from Hale Beta?” he asked, taking a long sip of his root beer. Stiles followed suit and let out a loud belch.

“Sorry – better out than in!” Stiles tapped the magazine. “I plan on using it as inspiration if you must know. But I need your help.”

“Stiles – there are so many occasions I can think of when you have made little to no sense – but this may well be up there in my top ten. What the fuck, Stilinski?”

“I want you to help me bag Peter Hale – but I’m not going to do it looking like this!” Stiles said, gesturing to himself. Jackson took in the ripped looking Avatar t-shirt that Stiles was wearing beneath a blue and white plaid shirt, the red hoody and dirty looking baggy jeans completing the ensemble. The converse had been kicked off and were currently staining the hell out of Jackson’s white faux-fur rug.

“I mean – you don’t look _that_ bad – wait! _PETER_ Hale?”

“I have told you over and over again – the man may be Satan in a vee neck but he sends my nether regions into overdrive!”

“Please never utter those words in my presence ever again!” Jackson shuddered at the imagery, even while he was rearranging his thoughts. “So – Derek?”

“Derek? No – Peter. Peter – little bit taller than me, supercilious look on his face, sarcastic as fuck but hot like burning? Are you going down with something? Is there such a thing as lizard flu?”

“Fuck off,” Jackson said mildly, flinging Stiles hand off of his forehead where he was pretending to take Jackson’s temperature. 

“Right, so yes – I need your sartorial advice. Because, let’s be frank, if ever there was a clothes-horse that could compete with Peter for swanky-wanker of the month, it would be you,” Stiles said. “Help me Obi Whittemore, you’re my only hope.”

“You know, that quote is so old, even Scott gets it now,” Jackson said with a sneer, looking Stiles up and down. 

“He still hasn’t watched them though,” Stiles griped. “So, can you help me? I don’t want to look like a hipster or an idiot – just old enough for Peter to actually want to take me to bed, hold me down, and rail me into nothingness beneath his hot body!”

“Sometimes you make me feel physically sick,” Jackson retorted, even while getting to his feet and heading towards his bedroom.

“But you’ll help me, right? I mean – I have tried _everything_ to get the guy to give me the D, but he keeps running away. I shower regularly – don’t overdo the axe body-spray so I know I don’t smell. Sometimes he looks at me like I’m the last steak at a BBQ and other times, its like he’s sniffing me – but then he just – stops.”

“Is it just that you want him to give you the D?” Jackson said, throwing open the doors to his walk-in closet. Stiles wandered into the room after him, pulling off his hoody and t-shirt as he did so. Jackson almost did a double-take. He didn’t normally look at Stiles that closely, but it would appear that the other man had done some growing since gym class at school – he didn’t have the physique of a werewolf, but he was definitely fit. “Where have you been hiding that body?”

“What body? This pale mass of sarcasm and moles?” Stiles replied before flinging himself onto Jackson’s bed and writhing around in an over-enthusiastic display of love for the softness of the mattress and sheets. 

“You do know it’s going to take me forever to get your stench out of my bedding after that little display?”

“You miss my stink from when we roomed together – don’t try to lie!” Stiles finally came to rest on his front, clutching a pillow to his chest and resting his chin on it. “No, I don’t _just_ want him to give me the D, but I thought I’d sneak up on him, you know, get him used to the Stilinski charms and then just refuse to leave the next morning.”

“So, you’re looking for something miraculous then?” Jackson tapped his chin before pulling out a few of his shirts and tossing them towards Stiles. “Fine – but this is gonna take some time and you’re gonna owe me. Got it?”

“I knew I could rely on you!”

* * *


End file.
